Isn’t the knowing of a child the most beautiful thing you ever experienced?

I love remembering my own sense of knowing during those years when I knew what I knew. And what I didn’t know, I imagined until it felt more real than what I knew.

Do you remember knowing you were amazing? At drawing, perhaps? Or riding horses. Or reading out loud with just the right inflections. Or hopping on one foot longer than anyone else. Or climbing trees. Or tap dancing. Or writing stories. Or molding clay. Or blocking all the goals. Or organizing clubs. Or giving recitations. Or calming a fussy child. Or performing tricks on your bike. Or knowing the alphabet backwards.

Do you remember when life got too serious for childhood games and make-believe?

What if tomorrow when you wake up you could be anything you want?

What if you could draw “a picture of a house that was so good, [you] had to hide it so nobody would steal it”?